Quantum Entanglement (Oneshots and Prompts)
by BrightLotusMoon
Summary: The Ninja Turtles are so close they may as well be entangled, the system as a whole. This is a series of stories via reader request and my own imagination. Any version, any topic, any genre, any relationship, any rating. Embedded recurring themes are Neurodivergent (Autistic, ADHD) Mikey and Lab Assistant Mikey. To request a story, PM me here or go to my Tumblr of the same name.
1. Chapter 1

(Author's Note: Inspired by actual past events and Linkin Park's "One More Light". A long time ago, members of my husband's social circle were jealous and envious that I was involved with him and plotted to convince me to take my own life. In 2005 they planned to sabotage our wedding. I just recently discovered this, thankfully over a year after I had cut ties with my former friends.)

* * *

TMNT Universe: 2003 4Kids Cartoon

Prompt: Author's Imagination

Who Cares? I Do

They knelt there for a long long time, and the only sounds were the wind and Mikey's muffled sobs. Donnie was staring a little too hard at the blood crusted against the woman's wrists.

"She promised she wouldn't," Mike whispered, startling him out of his introspection. "She called me beautiful. She promised she would stay because I was there."

Donatello licked the cold sweat off his upper lip and rested his hand on his gentle brother's head. "It's never simple, Mikey. The part that pushed her to hurt herself was incredibly strong. You've been there."

Mikey ran his thumbs over the bloody slits. "I guess... I always had parts in me even stronger."

"You had us," Don nodded. "This woman had just learned that she had no one, that her friends were fake and actively trying to hurt her. It's a harsh blow. She was in a very horrific state of mind when we found her, nothing you said could have brought her out of it."

"I wish she hadn't done it when we looked away," Mikey said. "At least wait til we were totally gone or something. Now I only feel guilty."

Donnie flinched. The coldness in his voice was back, that flat dark tone that warned the family of another slide. Don was already mentally setting up the futons in his lab, preparing that very particular nootropic herb tea. If the episode lasted longer than usual he would need to get Leatherhead involved.

His hand, still touching his brother, moved to his hand and grasped it until Mike dropped the dead woman's arm and weakly squeezed back. Don sighed.

"Mikey, look, we can't do anything, and there will be police here soon. I want to get you home."

Michelangelo looked right into his face and Donatello caught the pure understanding in those glimmering eyes.

"Okay," Mikey whispered, on the verge of crying.

They didn't let go of each other's hands, not even when they entered the lair and the others stared at then, expressions shifting from confusion to fear to comprehension to worry.

This time it was Leonardo who brought in the futons and Raphael who took Michelangelo by the shoulder to distract him with movie choices while Donatello prepared the anti-depressent tea.

They sat in the living room and watched movies until Mike began to fall asleep. Raph turned off the television.

During the first night they all slept in the lab, that had become the unspoken rule for the past year. Donnie suspected what the nightmares would be about, and he made sure to keep his little brother pressed close to him.

It hadn't been their first suicide victim but it had been the first to see one of them. Mikey's deep sensitivity and his empathic nature wouldn't let him forget.

But they could help him let go.


	2. Chapter 2

Universe: 2016 Paramount Film

Request: Author's Brain

(Author's Note: Literally from a dream I woke up from and wrote down. I will probably tell the whole story. I think it's my writerbrain encouraging me to finish the chapters of the current fics in progress.)

* * *

I'm Fine.

It took a long time, but finally there were footsteps and a soft knock on his door, and Mikey grabbed a pillow and crushed it to his face so he wouldn't scream when he cried again.

"Mikey, I'm coming in," and it was Leo, and he was not really surprised.

Michelangelo kept the pillow against his face and jerked when gentle hands tried to pull it away.

"You need to look at me, Mikey," Leo said. "Please."

He sucked in a breath. Leo's voice was hoarse and too quiet, too raw. It wasn't asking for obedience at all. Leo was in pain.

Michelangelo whimpered. He had caused all of this.

He let his brother take the pillow and then fresh tears welled up when Leo wiped his eyes with his thumbs. "I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Leo sounded like he was smiling. Mikey finally opened his eyes, and yes, Leo had a tiny smile there. It made Mikey even more miserable.

"For screwing up!" His molars ground together. "For goofing off to make that woman laugh and letting the crooks get hits in, and for you guys getting hurt, and..."

"Hey, no, stop." Leo's arms were around him, pulling Mikey's chin to his shoulder. "Raph is all right. I'm all right. Cuts and bruises. And you saved that woman's life. You saved her from a panic attack. You got her name and number. And that's one more human who accepts us. That's a good thing, Little Brother."

Nuzzling his shoulder, Michelangelo sniffled. "So you're not mad? Raph's not mad?"

Pulling back just enough to bump foreheads, Leonardo grinned. "Right now, Raph is lounging on the couch enjoying painkillers and watching a boxing match. He's the one who asked me to check on you. Nobody's mad. Donnie is worried."

Mikey blinked. "About me? Why?"

Leo tilted his head. "Because you've been depressed."

Mikey jerked back, eyes wide. "What? Pfft, no. Dude, I don't get depressed."

The look Leo gave him was heartbreaking. "You have no idea, do you."

Mike scowled at him. "I'm not sick, Leo. I'm fine."

Leo didn't even blink. "No, Little Brother. You're not fine. You can't even see how you're falling apart."

And now Mikey was feeling angry, and the new tears felt like fire in his eyes. "Shut up, Leo, you don't know what you're talking about."

He wanted... he wanted to hit something. He didn't want to be here anymore. The hollow numbness was being filled with a strange prickling heat.

"At least let Don check you over," Leo was saying.

"I'm not sick!" And he was yelling and to his ears he sounded cracked. "I'm not depressed! Shut up! Leave me alone!" And those images came again, the knives against his skin, the rush of wind and miles below to the ground. He scuttled back onto his bed, dropping his head into his hands. "Leave me alone, I'm tired."

He heard his brother get up and whisper his name and it sounded like a sob. He listened to Leo leave. He drew his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth. He felt himself start to shake.

"I'm fine," he whispered to the silence. "Everything is fine."


	3. Chapter 3

I'm Fine 2

Michelangelo squirmed out from under his behemoth brother and shook his head like a cat with itchy ears. "Still not funny, Raph."

He heard Raphael grumble in his Brooklyn Batman voice. "Welp, I tried. Yer turn, Donnie."

Mikey blinked. What turns?

He lifted to his knees, frowning, feeling that familiar soothing touch of the family scientist's fingers on his face.

"Come on, Mike, you didn't even laugh," and Donatello sounded so disappointed that a burning lump formed in Mikey's throat to join the block of ice in his gut.

He swallowed painfully and made himself stare directly into those golden green eyes magnified by tortoiseshell glasses. "S-sorry, Donnie. Guess I... I just have a... a h-headache." He had a violent headache. It threatened to hammer him into oblivion.

"Bullshit," Raph coughed.

"Raph," came Leonardo's growl.

Donnie's doctor stare became more intense. "Well, depression often causes headaches. It's an illness, after all. In the brain."

Mikey screamed in his head. He'd been doing that too much. He wanted to yell, again, that he Was Not Depressed, For Pizza's Sake, Leave It Alone, but Leo had figured him out and now nobody would leave him alone and he just wanted to scr-

"Damn, never heard the kid growl like that before." And Raph sounded far far away.

"Mikey, you're shaking," Don murmured.

He was shaking. His head hurt even more. His skin was tingling. His whole body was suddenly light and floating. His brothers' voices were clouds.

"Something's wrong," Leo said tightly. "I think he's gonna pass out."

Donatello had flipped down his goggles. "More than that," and his voice was high with alarm, "I think he's having a seizure!"

Michelangelo almost burst out giggling. Oh was that what it was? Was that why he felt like bursting out of his skin violently?

He felt his eyes roll back in his head, felt his whole body go sideways, and then he felt absolutely nothing.

It was bliss.

He pried open his eyes, seeing the blurry living room ceiling, feeling scooped out and utterly fatigued. His muscles ached and trembled like he'd spent a whole day in the ha'shi in rotation, with two hundred backflips. Michelangelo heard himself moan and decided it was pathetic.

A cool damp cloth was wiped over his face. "Easy, Mikey," came Donnie's voice, soft and frightened. "Don't move too much." Donnie's face came into view right above him, and he looked desperately worried.

Michelangelo scrunched up his face. "Cn't move anyw'y. Wwhy hurting?" His raw voice startled him.

He felt Don slip a hand under his head and he blinked, barely registering the sports drink held to his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched his older brothers approach carefully. Then he realized he was lying on the couch with his head in Don's lap. Donnie was trembling a little. Why was Donnie trembling?

The voices of Splinter, April, and Casey came through clearly. And then Casey was crouched right in front of his face, staring staring at him.

"Yeah," Casey said. "He definitely had a seizure. He's made himself physically sick... I've seen it before with the mentally ill kids we pick up. How long did you say he's been depressed?"

Mikey frowned and wanted to snap that he wasn't depressed but Raph was there, making him drink that orange electrolyte drink.

"I... at least two weeks," Leonardo mumbled. "I finally talked to him last night and he denied everything. But he's been quiet and tired, he's either sleeping too much or barely sleeping at all, he feels feverish after training. And. And he hasn't been eating much."

Casey bit his lip and ran his hands up and down Mikey's arm. Mike felt too weak to question it. Nobody joked about the food thing and he found he didn't care. Casey's warmth was soothing.

"His skin is dry but there's also dehydration. Do you guys regularly moisturize?"

"Got a few bottles of olive oil an' a big jar o' coconut oil," Raphael spoke up, "and Mike's the one who reminds us."

The new detective shook his head. "There's no evidence of oils on his skin or shell. Neglecting personal care is a major symptom. Could lead to cracked skin."

Mikey gritted his teeth. He was *not* depressed, it was *not* making him sick, he was *fine* - and he found himself too weak to protest, damn it.

He had finished half the drink before the raging headache slammed into him and he began to cry.

"Aww, Mike, no, hey," and Raph lifted him into his arms as Don hugged him from behind. Leonardo grabbed Mikey's hands and pressed their foreheads together.

Michelangelo just sobbed hims elf into deeper exhaustion.

Maybe he wasn't fine after all.


	4. Chapter 4

And he didn't dare listen to the shouts from behind him, he just ran, that was all he could think of, running and running. He needed to get away from all the pain inside him: his head, his stomach, all his joints: weights and chains of fire and ice, and he hadn't asked for it, he didn't know how to stop it...

Michelangelo tripped over a jutting pipe and stumbled, his legendary balance utterly failing him. In that desperate moment he didn't know what to do, so the fall was too hard. The way his hands and face slammed down with pulsing force scraping against the sewer wall and sewer ground was rough and dragging.

He exhaled in a defeated whine. He couldn't even run away properly. He couldn't do anything right, not even take a fall. He failed at everything now, even failing.

Pushing himself up, Mikey sat back and wheezed, tears slipping into his mouth. Why did being so sad have to hurt so much?

A violent throbbing sting rang up from his hands and cut through the fog to get his attention. He brought his hands up and stared. They were bleeding intensely, fingertips to wrists covered in a thick sheen oozing down his arms. He sniffled and tasted more blood. His whole face hurt.

He blinked. The pain... felt good. It was sweet. Like a warm blanket. It felt like a comfort. He licked around his mouth, his own blood like chocolate on his tongue. It was a beautiful beat, welling up from his veins, a drum playing a lullabye.

Michelangelo smiled.

When his brothers' voices reached him, he remained completely still, laughing inside. He felt the body pains fading slowly to the background in favor of the new whispering pulse in his mind.

...

Donatello realized he had already failed when they stumbled into a random tunnel and found Mikey.

His only younger brother, their baby brother, was sitting knees to chest, hands spread palms up and flowing blood. His nose was bleeding profusely, and Don noticed bloody scrapes on his chin and upper lip. There was a gash between his eyes.

His eyes were glazed, dilated, and spacey.

Raph muttered a soft curse.

Swift and silent, Leo moved in, murmuring, arms gently around Mikey so carefully, since that memory of his feral panic right before he ran away was fresh in all their minds. Mikey merely smiled, as if telling himself a private joke. A chill ran up Donnie's spine.

He let Raph go help their little brother stand and walk, since he knew that once back home, Don himself would be the one to administer the care. He took the lead back to the lair, and he swore he could hear Mikey whispering nonsensical things, but the others didn't say anything so he stayed quiet.

In the lab, they sat Mike on the cushioned table, Raph like a stabilizing pillar when Michelangelo swayed a little. Donnie swiftly took care of the facial wounds, but felt himself tremble a little when cleaning and wrapping his only younger brother's hands. Leo was cleaning the forehead gash, commenting about stitches. Mikey had not made a sound and Leo was worrying about concussion, infection. Donatello drew in a deep breath and went to examine. Yes, it would need stitches. Yes, Mikey had a mild concussion. Don wanted him to stay in the lab for a while.

And Mikey just smiled.

They helped him lie down and he was quiet as Donnie numbed the wound and began suturing. Raphael said something was wrong because Mikey was never quiet.

Donatello looked deeply into the clouded, faraway, wounded eyes of his baby brother, his only little brother, and he tried not to cry.

Because he knew that Michelangelo had welcomed the pain, had enjoyed it, had wanted it, and was hurting even more.

And Donnie knew he might lose his only little brother if they didn't do something quickly.

And Mikey just looked back at him, looked through him, and smiled. And his glassy eyes rolled back and slipped closed and he relaxed into unconsciousness.

This time Donnie cried, and Leo and Raph wrapped their arms around him.


End file.
